To make matters worse, heat was creeping into her cheeks.
Hoping to hide it, she knelt to gather the pieces of sort that were scattered across the floor. It was all very odd. Although he was modestly dressed today, he’d looked like an upper-class gentleman when she’d last seen him. Not like someone in need of employment.
“I’m terribly sorry,” he said as he dropped to a crouch and proceeded to help clean the mess.
“Might I suggest you look where you’re going in future?” She kept her attention firmly on the floor, refusing to look at him even though his voice alone made her shiver with pleasure.
Good grief. Shiver with pleasure? From no more than a voice? Whoever had heard of such nonsense before?
“My apologies once again.”
“This is the third time you’ve bumped into me within the course of one week.” She snatched up a sort and returned it to the correct compositing stick. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think it deliberate.”
He chuckled in a manner that only annoyed her further because of how utterly charming she found it. Gah! It was imperative she get away soon. Before she glanced at him without thinking and lost all common sense.
“Your face did strike me as familiar when I arrived this afternoon, though I can’t for the life of me figure out why.”
She collected a few more pieces which she proceeded to jam back into place. “You knocked into me last week while walking along Holborn.”
“That was you?” He sounded amused. “While I do recall the incident, I would never have recognized you. In fact, I’m surprised you recognized me.”
“And why is that?” she asked, reaching for a sort that had landed next to his foot.
He went for it at the same time, his fingers connecting with hers instead of the small piece of type. Jerking back, he cleared his throat while she sucked in a breath and tried to remain as still as she could. She couldn’t afford to reveal the shocking effect his touch had evoked.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “Didn’t mean to do that.”
“It’s fine,” she lied. The lingering sparks still pricked at her skin. This was possibly the furthest from ‘fine’ she’d ever been. This man was wreaking havoc not only upon her mind but on her body as well. It was intolerable.
She grabbed the last two sorts and stood.
“Anyway,” said Mr. Clumsy, “in answer to your previous question, I merely think it curious for a man to pay excessive attention to what another man looks like. They’re just random passersby on the street.”
Harriet winced. How stupid she’d been to reveal she’d taken notice of his appearance – that she recognized him after no more than a one split second glimpse. He’d turned away that day and continued on his way while she’d been left rather flummoxed, staring after him while attempting to calm her leaping pulse.
“Your boots,” she blurted, sounding like a cretin.
Her ears burned. She wanted to smack herself. Instead she swallowed past the sudden dryness in her throat and forced herself to look directly at him. It wasn’t easy since it was much like staring straight at the sun. Nevertheless, she did it, even though she could feel herself flushing, the heat not confined to her face but spreading rapidly down her neck and across her shoulders.
Still, she was fairly certain she managed to give him the most acerbic expression possible when all he did was blink in return.
“They were the finest I’ve ever seen,” she explained.
He frowned. “I don’t see how that helped your recognition of me since I’m wearing shoes today.”
“Right.”Pull yourself together, you nitwit.She raised her chin just enough to convey the sort of confidence she required in this instance. “They simply compelled me to take notice. Of you, that is. And besides, I’m quite good with faces. Once I’ve seen one, it tends to stick.”
“Hmm…” He angled his head. “You ought to work for Bow Street.”
She ought to get her head examined. Deciding a smile would be her safest response that was what she resorted to.
The man blinked again then shook his head and extended his hand. “Mr. Evans. I’m the new assistant editor.”
“Harry Michaels. Compositor.” She took the hand he offered while steeling herself against the effect she feared the contact would have. A wise decision, she decided one second later when his long fingers closed around hers. It felt as though she’d been struck by lightning.
How she kept her footing and managed not to gasp was beyond her. What she did notice was that his eyes widened a fraction as though he’d felt it too. Which was something she imagined he must find rather distressing.
If so, he gave no indication of it. He merely smiled, tightened his grip, and gave her hand a solid shake before releasing it altogether.
